He’s Really There for Us
14 Feb 2012 Leave a Comment
in accountability, change, family, fathers, life, lifestyles, parenting, psychology, single mothers, social issues Tags: absentee dads, single parents, social issues
I have dads on my mind again this morning. Lest you think that I’m dismissing the importance of mothers, I’m not. It’s just been my experience that if a parent “bails out,” it’s more likely to be the father. Why is that? And what can be done to reverse this social trend? We need to. Any reputable human growth and development text will tell you that adolescents in single-parent households are at higher risk for poor academic performance, delinquency, violent behavior, drinking, and risky sexual behavior.
Even if the father is not in the home, he can be a force for good. It is the quality of his involvement that counts, not his mere presence. We all know fathers who are hateful, ineffective, and abusive and whose families might be better off if they were to hit the road. I’m not talking about them. I’m referring to the ones who genuinely care about their children but for various reasons don’t actually live with them. If the dad provides financial assistance, fosters a close relationship, and practices authoritative parenting, his children are usually better adjusted than if he were absent.
I recall the moment when I first realized that single parenting was becoming more the norm. A dozen years ago, I had a pretty, petite, pregnant redhead in one of my classes. I was a bit surprised that she was beginning the semester because it’s been my experience that having a newborn usually takes more time and energy than the expectant mom realizes, and more often than not, she ends up withdrawing for that term. Sorry ladies, although there are many exceptions, that’s been my observation, especially if the mother is single.
And that was the case with this young mom. The moment she told me about her “boyfriend,” I thought, “Uh oh,” and had that sinking feeling that her college career would be cut short. Indeed, I somehow knew that the course of her life was about to be altered in a big way and that unless her circumstances changed, she and her baby would struggle in a myriad of ways.
Little Junior was born, and after a week, there she was back in class. I was delighted and surprised. We talked after class, and she showed me some pictures of the baby. There was a young man smiling and holding the newborn in a couple of the photos, and she proudly told me that he was the baby’s father and her boyfriend.
“He’s really there for us,” she said.
“That’s good to hear, “I replied.
“Yeah, he doesn’t come every single day because he’s busy, you know. But at least every other day he comes over and gives the baby a bottle.”
Again I said, “That’s good.”
Did she finish the semester? No. Her son would be approaching his teens now, and I often wonder about their fate. Does the child’s father offer financial assistance? Does he still “feed” his son? Is the child angry or rebellious? Do they live in poverty? Did she go back to college?
There have always been single mothers and absentee fathers. I just don’t recall it being so openly flaunted as it is now. I’m amazed at how easily a person can become adjusted to change, even if it’s not good. These days I’m often surprised and thrilled to learn that the couple is married, something that I used to take for granted.
Be a Dad
07 Feb 2012 2 Comments
in accountability, family, fathers, life, lifestyles, parenting, social issues Tags: fathers, parenting
It started with Courageous. Then later that week, I saw a huge billboard with Simba and Mufasa, the words “Be a dad,” written across it. For several moments, I reminisced about The Lion King and its many great themes, one of which is the importance of “remember(ing) who you are.” The movie also said a lot about effective leadership and the power of example. I could go on and on about the attributes of the movie, but I couldn’t do it justice. It’s something you need to see for yourself.
The two movies made me think of other fathers, young and old, living and deceased, and their tremendous potential for influencing their children. Of my young favorites, there’s Rich whom I’ve already mentioned in an earlier post; my son Paul; and Ryan and Charlie, my husband’s son and son-in-law respectively. What all four of these young men have in common is the love and caring that they extend to their children every single day. All work hard and are willing to sacrifice whatever it takes to care for their growing families. Their children look up to them and enjoy spending time with them.
Don’t believe me? Here are a couple of recent examples. My daughter-in-law Amanda says that she and Olivia Jayne will often go out on the balcony to wait for Paul when it’s time for him to come home. As soon as the tiny tot sees her father, she gets excited and starts stomping her feet. Recently, little Allie spent a couple of hours with us one morning before school started, and one of her favorite topics of conversation was Daddy, Daddy, Daddy (a.k.a. Ryan). And then there’s Hannah, Charlie’s oldest child. A sweet and precious child, she has often shown me a pearl necklace that her father gave her one evening when they went to daddy/daughter event.
Fathers of adult children are important too. Regardless of age, children need fathering, especially when it involves showing an interest in their lives and expressing a desire to spend time with them. As a quick example, my daughter Elizabeth enjoys monthly outings with her father. Whether shopping, enjoying a movie, or sharing a meal, his presence in her life clearly says, “I love you.” Then there’s my husband who talks with and sees his children on a regular basis. Last week, he spent one day hog hunting with Ryan and another day visiting with Lauren and her children.
Speaking of older fathers, last week I attended the funeral of an 84-year-old father, step-father, and grandfather. After the demise of his first wife, he married a friend of mine who had four young children, and for over twenty years, he’s been “there” for them. At the funeral, these four young adults sang a beautiful hymn in a tribute to Will.
Is there any greater legacy for a man to leave than that of being a responsible, dedicated, and caring father? At the end of life’s journey, I don’t think money or fame can top it in importance. For a child, there are empty places that only a father can fill. Even someone of presidential stature, Barack Obama, speaks of feeling a “father hunger” for much of his life.
Lest you think that I’m dismissing the importance of mothers, I’m not. It’s just been my experience that if a parent “bails out,” it’s more likely to be the father. Why is that? And what can be done to reverse this social trend?
Anxious and Antsy
03 Feb 2012 Leave a Comment
in books, courage, lessons, life, religion, self publishing, Uncategorized, writing Tags: self publishing, writing
Isn’t that a great picture? It’s included in Eve’s Sisters, a collection of essays applying psychological and spiritual principles to the lives of women in the Bible while comparing them to the women of today. Since the photograph will be black and white in the book, you’ll miss seeing the pretty red umbrella. Still, I love the picture as it seems to beckon the onlooker towards the sand and surf and a great day at the beach.
With only a few weeks until I actually get to see and hold Eve’s Sisters, I’m getting a little anxious, antsy too. After all, I’m self-publishing this book and have no marketing department behind me. I’ve had no editor giving me direction or advice. Nope, just little ole me and some kind members of my writing group who helped me out in a few areas, especially Mindy. And my sister Ann read the first draft and declared it to be the best thing I’ve ever written. But then, she’s my sister; she might have been trying to make me feel good. Or then again, maybe she was hinting that all my other work had been inferior.
What if no one buys a copy? What if the people who buy one do it solely out of loyalty and support and then they go home and shelve the book, never to be glanced at again? Just as scary, what if they read it and find it lacking in some way? Perhaps it’s too shallow or perhaps not biblically correct? Then again, maybe there’ll be some nitpickers who will delight in any tiny spelling, punctuation, or grammatical errors I might have missed, thus missing the essence of the book and the women it describes.
As an aside, yesterday I sensed that my intro psych class was extraordinarily nervous about their first test so to help allay their tension somewhat, I wrote a short sentence or two in an introductory statement that preceded the online test. I don’t recall the precise wording today, but it went something like, “I know you’ll do well. Just make sure to read ech question and its options carefully before making your selection.” Did it help? I’m not sure. One of the young men was so amused by the misspelled word that my effort at encouragement took a back seat.
Back to the book, even if people smirk and make snarky remarks, it doesn’t matter. If some say that it’s poorly written, elementary, or poorly researched, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t even matter if people disagree with me. In fact, I’d like to get a good discussion going and check out other points of view. The point is that people’s approval or disapproval doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter. It was something I felt impressed to do, and I couldn’t let fear of censure, criticism, or condemnation stop me. (You shouldn’t either.)
Guess I got a little carried away up there. Before posting this, I need to add that I’m publishing this book with Inspiring Voices, a house associated with Guideposts. After having an article published in the April 2011 issue of Guideposts magazine, I did a little research and perceived Inspiring Voices to be reputable publisher. So far, all of my experiences with them have been positive, and the galleys look GOOD because of their internal design team.
Has it been a lot of work? YES. Would I self-publish again? Probably not, but maybe. There are lots of advantages to traveling the self-publishing route. There are quite a few potholes and hurdles and curvy roads too. In the next couple of posts, I’ll examine some of the pros and cons, and in doing so, maybe I’ll give someone out there the nudge she (or he) needs to “just do it.”
Emma and Her Date
01 Feb 2012 1 Comment
in accountability, children, courage, fathers, lifestyles, parenting, single mothers, social issues Tags: single parents, societal issues
On a scorching day this past July, I walked out of the library in Rincon, GA and heard a sweet little voice saying, “Hey Grandmama!” There she was, my blond, curly haired granddaughter Emma running towards me. She and her father had a daddy/daughter date that day, and they were dining on hamburgers and fries in the park. I looked up and saw Rich, my son-in-law, sitting at a picnic table in the park, and hand-in-hand, Emma and I sauntered over. I sauntered; Emma skipped.
“Why did you guys decide to come here?” I asked. “Couldn’t you eat your lunch in air conditioned comfort?”
“Well, it was Emma’s time to choose, and she wanted to come here,” Rich replied. Emma climbed back up on the bench next to her dad and took a sip of her drink. I took a long look at my son-in-law, drenched in perspiration, obviously uncomfortable and thought, “That’s love.”
We chatted a few minutes and then I drove off. When I looked back, there they sat, Rich listening to Emma’s prattling, and Emma swinging her legs and happily telling her dad something important (to her).
I remembered this scene and others like it as my husband and I watched Courageous last week, a movie about men with the courage to step up to the plate and fulfill their responsibilities as fathers. Moved by the stories portrayed in the movie, we talked for the umpteenth time about how fortunate we are that our eleven grandchildren are being raised in homes with both mom and dad present, present in more ways than one. When I compare their young lives to that of millions of our nation’s children, my heart hurts.
Seeing the movie and thinking of its title reminded me that I too need to have courage to speak up, to do and say what I perceive to be appropriate in encouraging fathers to take their childrearing responsibility seriously. The children of America need a masculine influence in their homes, a person who can and will love, guide, protect, and provide for them. Yes, I know that mothers are perfectly capable of loving and guiding, but the children fare better with two adults, united in purpose, to raise them.
In the movie, one of the young men who’s part of a gang has been arrested. As he sits in the back seat of the police car waiting to be taken to jail, one of the officers leans into the car and asks, with concern, something like, “What are you doing?” Sad and vulnerable (at least in appearance), the young man simply replies, “Man, I don’t have anybody.” (paraphrase) That one sentence contains so much truth and so much hurt.
Children without fathers are more likely to drop out of school, join gangs, and get involved with drugs. I know some people reading this want more specific data. They want percentages and statistics. I can find them easily enough, and maybe by the time I write another post about being courageous, I’ll have looked them up. Or better yet, maybe you can do it. The stats and facts are easy enough to find. It’s no secret that over 40 percent of children born in South Carolina are born to single mothers. Where are the dads? Where is their courage?
Is It Already Monday??
27 Jan 2012 2 Comments
in life, travel, travels Tags: traveling, traveling with friends, Washington DC
Sad to be leaving and yet happy to be touring the Capitol before heading home, my sister travelers and I got up a little earlier on our last day in the capital. Knowing that it would probably take between eight and nine hours before pulling into my driveway that night, we needed to get an early start with our sightseeing.
After another yummy breakfast (this time with crispy, tasty waffles), we piled in my car, and Tilara drove to a perfect parking spot within a block of both the Capitol and the Library of Congress. Walking towards the Capitol, we again remarked on the statue that sits atop its shiny dome. It had to be a famous Native American chief, we figured. Wrong. That morning we learned that the statue is called “Freedom” and that it’s a female.
We excitedly waited in line with some other upbeat folks for our tour time of 9:50. As we walked through security, the alarm went off, and I was the culprit. Not too worried, I figured it was my bracelet. But no, it was my tiny pink Swiss Army knife. I was sternly told to take it outside and throw it away. I must have looked dumbfounded because the guard again demanded, “Go outside and throw it away or leave the tour.” I hated that! That little knife and I have been inseparable for years, and it’s come to my rescue on many occasions. It even had a nail file and a tiny pair of scissors. Nevertheless, I chunked it and decided to share this little episode so that others would know to leave their weapons outside.
The tour was magnificent. The young tour guide was knowledgeable and upbeat, two positive attributes for a good guide. As she pointed out many of the statues in “The Crypt,” the area beneath the Rotunda, she mentioned that John C. Calhoun from South Carolina had, hands down, the best hair of them all. I was fascinated by the star in the center of the floor that illustrates the point from which the streets of Washington are laid out. We also visited the beautiful Rotunda with its statues of George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Dwight Eisenhower, Martin Luther King, and Ronald Reagan. There was also a representation of three well-known suffragettes, including Elizabheth Cady Stanton. The fresco painted in the Rotunda’s dome is breathtakingly beautiful and beyond my ability to describe.
Capitol tour completed, we made quick stop in the gift shop for souvenirs before entering the tunnel leading to the Library of Congress. Even the tunnel itself was awe-inspiring with its posters of book covers. We learned that the Library is the largest one in the world by shelf space and in the number of books. Although the Library is open to the public, only people with a reader identification card can actually enter the reading rooms. The four of us quietly and almost reverently walked through the facility, taking pictures and absorbing the ambience. After a quick walk through Thomas Jefferson’s Library, we reluctantly left the building and headed towards my trusty Highlander.
With Tilara at the wheel, we cruised out of the city, wondering when we’d get back again. As we were riding along the Potomac, Tilara turned to look at people strolling in Potomac Park and inadvertently missed our exit. Upset for about half a second, she soon got over it as we all relished our last look at this historic river.
Within seconds we were on the interstate heading south. We chatted about our favorite sights and memories off and on for much of the trip back to South Carolina, and we realized that although we had done and seen a lot, there was so much more that we wanted to see. You know what that means, right? Another trip!
Day Two in Washington
24 Jan 2012 1 Comment
in Chinatown, life, memories, Museums, travel Tags: Smithsonian, traveling with friends, Washington DC
After breakfasting on lox and bagels and omelets, we once again headed out into the capital city to do the tourist thing. Destination: the Capitol. Its shiny dome had been tempting and taunting us from the moment we had arrived in the city two days earlier, and now we were actually going to get to see it up close and personal. First, however, we rode the metro to Union Station. Too early for the shops to be open, the station was relatively quiet. Looking at its breathtakingly beautiful architecture brought back memories of an earlier visit with my son and some friends when we had taken Amtrak from Florence, SC.
Like millions of other visitors, we took walked out of the front door and were impressed with the statue of Christopher Columbus. As we busily snapped a few pictures of the man who sailed the ocean blue in 1492, we kept glancing up the hill at the Capitol. Then we began our ascent, all the while talking about the scenery around us. There at last, we were stopped by security guards who told us that the building was closed but that we could visit it at 8:30 the next morning. Happy to be so close, we couldn’t leave without taking several photographs. The one of the four of us standing against the wall was snapped by a man who jokingly told us that he was going to charge us. After all, he had six children to educate and every little bit helped. I hope he and his family enjoyed their time on “the hill” as much as we did.
Next stop, the Smithsonian. We began our museum visits with a trip to the American Indian Museum where we were treated to a performance of traditional dances. After about an hour of trying to read and study all of the exhibits, we hustled towards the next stop. My chums went to the American Museum of Natural History while I spent an hour or so walking around in a trance in the National Gallery of Art. Among other things, they wanted to see the Hope diamond, and I wanted to see art, art, and more art. It’s huge! I was awed by its size and the collections. I was drooling over a poster by Georgia O’Keefe when my friends called to say they were headed to the Museum of American History.
I left Georgia’s poster and walked to the next museum to join my friends. In need of some energy, we ate snacks in the cafeteria before viewing the exhibits. Of my recollections of the afternoon, those moments in the cafeteria are among the finest. Here we were eating our yogurt and salads among some of the most diverse people we’d dined with in a long time, all the while looking out of the big glass windows at the sidewalk and the passers-by. It was marvelous. Fortified and refreshed, we went upstairs to view the exhibits of America’s past. LOVED THIS! From Dorothy’s red slippers to model train stations, we reveled in all of it.
We left the last of the museums at dusk, and as we scurried across the mall in search of the metro, I took a photo of the Washington Monument. Had to. There was something about its tall simple beauty that spoke to me. Weary but happy, we decided to grab some sandwiches at Subway in Chinatown and take them to the room. So much for our vow to eat ethnic food every night! At least the Subway was in Chinatown even if the food wasn’t noodles or bok choy!
Lights were out by 11:00. These Southern gals needed a good night’s sleep for touring the Capitol and the Library of Congress the next day.
Blackberries and a Bell Tower
23 Jan 2012 1 Comment
in Benjamin Franklin, friends, life, memories, travel Tags: travel, travel writing, traveling with friend, Washington DC
We began our first full day in the capital city fortified with a magnificent breakfast in the hotel dining room. In addition to the customary eggs, bacon, waffles, cereal, and grits, there were other tasty treats such as salmon, capers, and a nice variety of fruit, including my personal favorite, the sweetest, plumpest, most succulent blackberries I’ve ever tasted. Plus, each day we were there, our server brought complimentary strawberry smoothies to us, and I can still taste the rich twang of the fruit. Nice!
Armed with directions, Tilara led our little band of tourists towards the Holocaust Museum. Walking briskly to stay warm, we nonetheless managed to take in the many interesting sights around us. As we stopped at a stoplight, I noticed a lovely young woman with a beautiful smile looking at us. I had begun to wonder if we looked weird or something when she asked, “Do you ladies need some directions?”
After about ten seconds of hesitation, we told her of our destination. She assured us that we were headed in the right direction and then began to fill us in on some inside information, the kind of stuff that residents know. Turns out she was a graduate student at Gallaudet University who was taking the day off to do the tourist thing. Alyssa was missing her mother, and we were missing our daughters, so we five banded together for a splendid day of sightseeing.
After crossing the street, we walked through a beautiful park filled with art work and sculpture. I took several photographs and am including two of my favorites. I love trees, even stark wintry ones, so I was captivated by this silver one whose branches were bereft of foliage. And the headless people? I can’t explain its appeal. Maybe I liked it because of its uniqueness. In my hometown (dear as it is), we have statues of heroes (all male), not a gallery of headless, sexless human creatures.
Alyssa led us across the mall and pointed out the various Smithsonian museums. Continuing our walk, we soon crossed another street and found ourselves at the entry of the Holocaust Museum. Four hours later, we emerged, sobered and vowing to “never forget.” Of all the things I saw and heard there, I think the hundreds of black and white photographs of children, family units, couples, brothers, sisters, and friends affected me the most. Here were people just like me enjoying the sunshine and the fellowship of loved ones, and then there was nothing. While in the gift shop, I reread portions of Elie Weisel’s Night. I immediately remembered reading this on the beach one summer, sure that the bright sun and lapping waves would lessen the horror. They didn’t.
I didn’t take any photographs at this museum. No one did.
Our next stop was the Old Post Office Pavilion on Pennsylvania Avenue, an attraction that Connie had read about online. It has a huge statue of Benjamin Franklin, founder of the United States Post Office, out front so we seized the opportunity for a photo op with him. While there, we had snacks and enjoyed the beautiful architecture before going up to the bell tower atop the building. It was freezing! Still, our time there was worthwhile, not only because of all the bells but also because of the fabulous views of the city. The woman working in the tower was kind enough to come out of her warm little cubicle to take this picture.
We told Alyssa that one of our goals was to eat ethnic food while we were in the capital city, and she recommended a restaurant called the Thiatantic. Catchy, huh? On the way to the metro, we walked by the Navy Memorial and took some cool pictures of us with the tall, handsome sailor standing with his duffel bag. As our knowledgeable young tour guide pointed out, he stands overlooking a map of the world.
The metro ride was interesting, and we were all happy to have experienced this as part of our trip. As soon as we walked into the restaurant, we were captivated by its charm. The menu was extensive, the décor was simple yet eloquent, the service was outstanding, and the food was delicious. Interestingly, one of Alyssa’s friends and her beau were also dining there, and she agreed to take our picture. I enjoyed the evening so much that on our way home, we made a stop in Target so that I could purchase a scarf like Alyssa’s friend was wearing as a momento.
Back on the metro, Alyssa gave us instructions on what to do once we got back in Chinatown and the metro stop that was just a few blocks from our hotel. We all hugged Alyssa good-bye (for now), and Tilara extracted a promise from her that she’d call once she was back in her apartment safe and sound. You’d think four “mature” women would get it right, right? But no, we took a little detour before finally getting on the right train that was going in our direction.
Back at the Renaissance, we chatted about our experiences, all of them made better because of meeting our young friend who was kind enough to share her knowledge of the city. She also taught us some sign language, and one of my favorite expressions is, “Think for yourself.”
Day Two and the Smithsonian to follow….
Road Trip, Road Trip!
21 Jan 2012 2 Comments
in friends, homeless people, life, obesity, travel, travels Tags: DC, travel, traveling with friends, Washington
I thought I’d have much more time to write when I retired, but that hasn’t happened yet. Maybe it’s because I’m only semi-retired. And maybe it’s because I’m so busy doing other things that I couldn’t do while I was working all the time. Then again, I actually have been writing quite a bit, just not blog posts.
Excuses aside, I’m taking a few minutes to write about my recent trip to Washington, D.C. that I took with some friends. Not only will it help me to remember all of the cool sights and sounds, but it might also encourage some other people to make the trip. Before I get into the nitty gritty details, let me just say that’s it’s an awesome city and one that every American needs to visit.
When Tilara called to invite me about a month ago, I thought, “Sounds great, but I can’t really afford it right now.” Coming on the heels of Christmas, the opportunity was tempting, but I needed to curtail my spending for a while. Then she told me about her time share. Hmmm. Maybe it would be doable after all if I had no lodging expense.
We agreed to look into transportation possibilities including planes, trains, and automobiles and talk in a day or two. By this time, I had begun to think, “Why not?” instead of “No can do.” When Jeanita and Connie said they could go, I knew it was a perfect foursome, and all of my reservations went out the window. We decided that driving was the best way to go and that my car would be the most practical choice. It would hold us and our luggage comfortably, it gets good gas mileage, and it had just had a check up.
We headed out on Friday the 13th the around 7:00 a.m., and before we even made it to the interstate, we had made some ground rules, the main one being that if we were hungry or thirsty or in need of a potty break, we’d stop. We four believe that the journey is just as important as the destination and that there are a lot of interesting experiences to be savored off the beaten path. We didn’t go crazy with this, but we did enjoy lunch at a Cracker Barrel in NC and snacks at a Wawa in Virginia. At Cracker Barrel, we leisurely browsed through the store without someone hurrying us along by saying, “You about through looking?”
Around 4:00 p.m., we arrived in the city and rode around looking for the hotel. Tilara, the Washington expert, was driving, and she was getting concerned that we couldn’t find it right away. The rest of us were loving every minute of riding around the streets and avenues. We were like schoolkids saying, “Oh, look at that!” and “Hey, there’s the Washington monument!!”
Connie spotted the Renaissance, and as soon as we walked into the lobby we fell in love with the ambience. The music and the décor were marvelous, and the feng shui was perfect. We especially liked the library room and took pictures so that we could redo our bookshelves when we got home. On Monday morning Tilara and I met an accounting professor who was studying for classes in the “library.” He and I talked a little about the background work of preparing for class. You can’t just walk into class and go into a programmed spiel unless you’ve read and studied and practiced and tweaked and read and studied some more. But I digress.
That evening when we finally got settled, we made a foray onto the streets for a bite to eat. First we visited Barnes and Noble, and although I didn’t buy anything there, I enjoyed browsing through the books and reading a couple of magazines. Afterwards we walked around a little, and I spied an Anthropologie that I wanted to return to the next morning. It didn’t happen, but it’s not on my list of regrets because there were so many other fantastic things that we did. Plus, there’s always next time.
Hungry and tired from all those hours on the road, we ate at Hard Rock Café. The food was delicious, especially the appetizer, but I wish we could have had a different side than fries. I’m wondering if the chain hasn’t gotten the word that America has a growing obesity epidemic. Although I liked the music and memorabilia, I’ve been in these establishments in different parts of the country for over 20 years, and they’re starting to run together. My favorite is in Myrtle Beach, SC, maybe because of the staircase descending down, down, down into the restaurant. The sky ceiling is unique too. Oops, I’m digressing again.
We bid Mama, our male server with a unique accent, farewell and walked back to the hotel. Although it was cold and dark, we were caught up in the magic of the capital city, and we took our time walking home, remarking on places we wanted to visit the next morning. The only thing that cast a shadow over the evening was the number of homeless people we saw wrapped in gray blankets. Feeling greedy, selfish, guilty, and compassionate, we left our Hard Rock leftovers on a bench for one of them.
Exhausted, we fell asleep easily, each of us remembering the day of traveling and the memories we’d already made. Stay tuned for Day One in Washington. It stands as proof that one never knows what good things lie in store, even when (maybe especially when) you aren’t looking for them.
Focus, Connie. Focus.
02 Jan 2012 2 Comments
in celebrations, courage, friends, goal setting, lessons, self improvement, thoughts, words Tags: new year, resolutions, words
About five years ago, my friend Connie and I began coming up with a “Word of the Year,” something that would direct our thinking and acting throughout the upcoming year. Weary of making resolutions that bit the dust after a few weeks, we thought that a word that could encapsulate several goals would work better. Turns out we were right. Not only did we make most of our decisions based on our individual words, but we also found ourselves permanently changing our behavior. Well, semi-permanently. There are still times when I have to remind myself to have COURAGE, to BELIEVE, and to say YES more often.
After much thought and deliberation, Connie came up with her word last week. It’ s EXPLORATION. Curious, I asked her whether she meant exploration of other places, interests, and ideas or whether she meant inner exploration. Was she planning to take more trips, hike on the Appalachian Trail, take up painting, or discover inner talents? “All of it. Everything,” she answered. And guess what? She’s already started. If the fates are with us, we’re going on a road trip to Washington, DC with a couple of friends later this month.
Enough about Connie. What about Jayne? My word for 2012 is FOCUS. That doesn’t sound as exciting as EXPLORATION, but it’s something I definitely need to work on. Besides, I’m pretty good about the exploring part. I could stand some improvement in that area, but I need a huge amount of improvement in the focusing department. My husband often says, “You just need to concentrate on one thing at a time,” or “If you’d just pay attention and do one thing at a time, you’d get more accomplished…and maybe you wouldn’t misplace so many things.”
Then too, there are several projects I’m working on, and I know that I need to focus on one at a time. Should I correct the galleys for a book I’m self-publishing? Should I write a few paragraphs for a ebook that I’m writing about what every technical/community college student needs to know? Should I clean out the refrigerator? Should I mail the packages to Olivia and Carrie? Or maybe it’s time to clean out some closets. Or no, that can wait. What’s really important is playing Words with Friends with my brother. Then again, classes begin next week, and we’re using a new text for an intro class so I better get busy on that. But not until I start reading this new book I ordered for my Kindle.
See what I mean? I need to focus focus focus focus.
I knew my decision was a good one when I went to church today. During Relief Society, Michelle shared her enthusiasm for a blog she’d read about using a word to guide one’s thinking instead of making resolutions. She encouraged us to use verbs and then shared examples of some words that we might like. Several class members, including yours truly, participated by sharing their words.
Here’s what I found especially interesting. While talking to us about THE WORD, Michelle used some variation of focus at least a half a dozen times. Then Kitty spoke up and said that she needed a word that would help her focus. Another person said that she was trying to focus on gratitude, and yet another said that she was focusing more on being fully present.
So FOCUS is my word for 2012. I’ve already cleaned out the refrigerator tonight. I have my to-do list ready for tomorrow, and I’m going to focus on doing one thing at a time…and on being mindful of the tremendous opportunities and blessings that I enjoy.
What’s your word?
Lesson from Mama
31 Dec 2011 Leave a Comment
in celebrations, Christmas, family, grandchildren, holidays, memories, relationships Tags: Christmas memories, families
The house is quiet tonight, almost too quiet. All of the Christmas company has gone home, the tree has been taken down, and the fireworks commemorating the new year are going off all around my house. As I reflect on yet another holiday season coming to a close, I’m reminded of another lesson I learned from my mother. Christmas isn’t just one day. Well, it is and it isn’t. What she meant is that Christmas is a season and a feeling and that it doesn’t have to be confined to one 24-hour period. When we spend so much time, money, energy, and thought into making the day one of unimaginable splendor and beauty, we sometimes miss the meaning and the magic.
So that’s got me thinking of when I first realized, “Oh, it’s here again!” Was it when I first saw the Salvation Army people collecting money at Wal-Mart? Or was it when I turned in the last grade for the semester? No, maybe it was the day after that when I attended a luncheon at our local CCTC satellite campus. Or no, I think it was actually when I arrived in NYC with three like-minded gals for a day of sightseeing and shopping in the Big Apple. If there’s anyone on earth who can see the Macy’s store windows and the huge “Believe” sign on the front of the block-sized department store and not feel the spirit, that person has some psychological issues.
I did a lot of fun things this season (including the above mentioned trip to Manhattan!), but when it comes right down to it, my most precious recollections have to do with people, the people I love…and some who are strangers too. In no particular order, here are a few sweet memories.
- Seeing the Salvation Army men dancing dancing dancing in NYC. In front of Macy’s and at Rockefeller Center, these spirited men were entertaining the crowds and raising money for a good cause.
- Seeing Santa sitting on a bench near Rockefeller Center. Jolly old Saint Nick happily posed for a picture with Kayla, the youngest of our group.
- My husband’s children and their partners and children joining us on the afternoon of the 17th for food and fellowship. We were especially happy that Kacey could join us this year. And all of remarked on how much difference a year could make. Baby Charlie was walking all over the place, and last year he couldn’t even crawl yet.
- Earlier that day, we had a Christmas get-together with all of my husband’s siblings and their families. When he and I first got married, these events were held in a home, but now that the family has grown so much, we’ve moved the party to a local church. Santa came. He was jolly and patient, but he couldn’t fool Whitney. “He’s not the real Santa,” she confided in me. “I could see the strap holding his beard.”
- The night of the 22nd when I saw three of my grandchildren’s faces pressed up against window of the breezeway door. I flung open the door, hugged them tight, and then saw another sight for sore eyes: their other two siblings and their parents.
- That same night around 11:15 when I heard a tentative “Mom?” It was my son Paul who had stopped over to spend the night on his way to Myrtle Beach where his wife and daughter were waiting.
- Later that night seeing Paul and Carrie’s heads together as they discussed the merits of various laptops.
- Watching and listening as the kids opened their gifts on the night of the 23rd. Need I say more about this? Everyone who’s been a child or been around a child can imagine this scenario.
- The Christmas Eve brunch. I loved having my sibs(two of them) and their families, my Aunt Polly, my cousin Sue & her family, and of course my children here for a fun gathering. Thanks to help from my beautiful daughter Elizabeth, everything came together. We even played Christmas bingo…loved watching Brooke help her father play the game.
- Following through with a Christmas Eve tradition of seeing a movie; this year it was Sherlock Holmes.
- Sitting between Otis and Elizabeth in church on Christmas morning as we listened to the messages and the soul-stirring music.
- Christmas day lunch at my mother-in-law’s house. After all of the feasting we’d been experiencing, we decided on a light menu, subs and cake. Loved that!
- Monday brunch at Elizabeth’s home in Conway. More yummy food!
- Having Olivia, Amanda, Paul, and Elizabeth come for a visit in Myrtle Beach and watching Olivia push her new pink grocery cart all over the house. She was wearing her black boots and chatting away. Later we went to Nacho Hippo for a farewell dinner.
- Shopping for after Christmas deals with Elizabeth the next day. We love Target!
- Naturally, I couldn’t include everything in the above. Who would want to read all of it anyway?
For some brief, shining moments, we were all together enjoying one another’s presence and remembering Christmases past. On Christmas Eve, I shared a toast with all who were present, and although you weren’t there, you’d like the toast. It was based on the end of a movie, Places in the Heart. My friend Martha had declared its ending to be the best of all movie endings so I had to rent it.
The scene takes inside of a church, and all the pews are populated not only by people who live in the small town but also by those who have “moved on,” either by death or change of location. They’re all partaking of the Lord’s Supper, and although there has been a lot of heartache and pain in the movie, in that final scene, everyone is there…everyone.
What I took from the church scene is that love is the most important and powerful force in the universe and that people who’ve once been a part of your life will always be there with you. You might not be able to see them, but they’re there. Oh and P.S., my mother was right. Christmas is more than a day.
